


A World With You

by carpe_cullen



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Amnesia, Angst, Drug Abuse, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Head Injury, Heartbreak, Lyrium Addiction, Memory Loss, Rough Sex, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-04-29 00:02:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5110313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carpe_cullen/pseuds/carpe_cullen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the first time in his life, Cullen thought things couldn’t get any more perfect. He had finally married Emilie, the woman who walked into his life by chance in that bookshop. Their relationship hit him fast and hard, falling head over heels for her within a matter of weeks, and he found himself browsing rings, and buying one, with barely a year into their relationship. And now, their first anniversary was rapidly approaching and he had something wonderful planned. But when she woke up the day before, he had no idea that he would lose her. Never had he pictured sitting by a hospital bed, his wife in a comatose state in an attempt to heal any brain damage the crash had caused, but there he was and there he will stay until she woke. But when her eyes finally open and she doesn’t know who he is, he becomes determined to get her to fall for him again. Will he succeed?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_“Life is made of moments. Moments that can change our path drastically. Some that change it for the better….and many for the worse. Happiness and utter devastation. So why did we think we were excluded from this?”_ **  
**

* * *

8am, the alarm sounds, breaking the calm morning silence. Cullen groaned as he felt the soft, warm body beneath his arm began to stir, the rustling of the several blankets adding to the noise. He snuggled closer, not wanting to lose the warmth of her skin pressed against his, his lips peppered kisses along her shoulder blade, earning him a giggle from her once he reached the ticklish spot in the crook of her neck. Within a few moments, the alarm was silenced and his arm tightened around her as she tried to move away.

“Cullen,” Emilie mumbled, “I’m going to be late… _again_.” She shifted in his arms, turning to face him, yawning and eyes fluttering as she struggled to wake up for work. The corner of his lips curled as he admired the way her features scrunched together in an attempt to squish the sleep away.

“Can’t you just call in?” he asked, only half joking. She grumbled as her hand snuck between them to rub at her eyes.

“The day before my small vacation starts? That’s not suspicious  _at all_ ,” she said, trying to pull away from him again and failing just as before. He looked over to the window and saw it covered in frost and snowflakes falling heavily outside.

“It’s snowing out! It’s clearly too dangerous to drive,” he laughed, practically grasping at straws at this point.

“And how many times have I had to drive in the snow already this month  _alone_?” she asked, smiling up at him. Her eyes opened slowly, the tiredness barely showing now, and his smile stretched further as her honey eyes met his. His hand slid up her back and into her curls, tucking the chestnut locks behind her ear.

“Alright, but as soon as you get back home you’re not leaving my arms for the next four days,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Both of them hummed at the thought of having an entire four days for themselves. Tomorrow would mark their one year wedding anniversary and he couldn’t believe how much his life has changed in such a short amount of time. Some doubted that they would make it past six months, but their closest friends and family knew, just as they had as well, that they were meant for one another.

“I like the sound of that,” she said, tilting her head just enough for their lips to meet in a chaste kiss. His hold on her loosened as she began to push the covers away, the cold air instantly coating their skin in goosebumps. She pulled the blankets back quickly, tucking her head beneath them with a laugh. “I don’t wanna leave this cocoon of heat!”

He laughed with her as she began to cuddle up to his torso, her fingers grazing near his hip bone. His laughter quieted, eyes squinting as he realized what she was planning. “Nuh uh, no!” he said, his hand gripping the covers and pulling them from their bodies so forcefully that they slid to the floor. “You’re  _not_ tickling me. Now get up and get ready for work.” She whined as he began to roll her to the edge, the movement pushing her, well technically his, sleep shirt up around her waist and revealing her bare bottom. It was at this point that he felt the dull throbbing beneath the waistband of his sweats. His hands instinctively slid down the dip of her lower back, fingers tracing over the dimples before smoothing over the full cheeks.

“We don’t have time,” she moaned, looking over her shoulder at him with a pout. He sighed, knowing that she was right and leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to the soft skin.

“Alright, I guess I can wait to torture you until you get home,” he teased, pushing himself away and to the edge of the bed. His arms stretched over his head, a yawn slipping past his lips as the bones in his back cracked. “I’ll make breakfast while you get ready, love.”

As he made his way to the kitchen, the cold air prickled his skin until he finally caved and turned the thermostat up. Cullen quickly fell into their typical Thursday routine, she would shower and dress for work while he made them breakfast, a simple eggs and toast with fruit and coffee. Normally, she would wake up earlier and they took the time to indulge their more carnal needs which they, unfortunately, had to skip out on today. The toast was in the toaster, the coffee brewing and eggs sizzling in the pan and as he heard the shower turn on in the bathroom, the rushing water reminded him that he forgot one little stop in his routine. He scurried into their bathroom, smiling when he heard Emilie singing softly. When the porcelain lid tapped the tank, Emilie stuck her head out from behind the curtain.

“ _Are you_..”

“ _Yes_ …just, be ready for the water to get scalding hot,” he muttered.

“You couldn’t ha-”

“I forgot!”

“How could you forg-” the rest of her sentence cut off with the flush. “ _OUCH_!”

“I told you to be ready,” he said, shaking his head as he walked to the sink.

“It still hurts,” she whined. She poked her head out of the shower and her lips formed a pout. He watched her in the mirror as he finished washing his hands and he laughed.

“Do I need to kiss it and make it better?” he asked, winking at her as he dried the water from his skin. Her lips pursed before shaking her head and returning to the shower.

“Maybe later, once my wounds are bubbling and festering,” she teased.

“It could’ve been worse,” he chuckled before leaving the bathroom.

When he returned to the kitchen, the eggs were nearly done and the toast had popped up. He flipped their eggs once before reaching for their plates, mugs, and utensils and grabbed the creamer from the fridge. He finished preparing their breakfast, placing the full plates at the island bar along with their mugs, napkins and - the final touches - the newspaper next to his and a cooking magazine next to hers. Once he sat in his stool, he heard the shower stop and in a matter of moments, Emilie came out dressed in a simple black top and jeans with her hair tied back. He watched her over his newspaper, a sly smile plastered on his face, and once she realized his stare she paused.

“What?” she asked, her eyes looking down at herself to see if there was anything strange he was staring at.

“I see no blisters or burns,” he mused, one hand reaching for his coffee. She rolled her eyes as she continued her way to her stool.

“They’re all hidden under my clothes, don’t you dare think you’ll get out of kissing them all over,” she said with a small smile as she sat next to him. His shoulders shook with laughter, nearly choking on his drink.

“You know I wouldn’t miss such an opportunity,” he said after clearing his throat. The rest of their breakfast was spent mostly in silence, each captivated by the news or recipe. Every so often, his eyes would shift from the letters over to her, unable to control himself. He’ll never believe that his current life is actually reality, constantly thinking he’s been dreaming this whole time, that the beautiful woman, inside and out, next to him was truly his wife. He took in the way she concentrated on the pages before her, a hungry curiosity in her eyes as she flipped through, and the way her cheeks blushed once she noticed him staring like always.

Sooner than he liked, the time for Emilie to leave came quickly. They both dressed to go outside, bundling themselves in their winter coats, scarves, hats and gloves and braced for the cold. The wind howled and thick snowflakes fell all around them. They teamed cleaning and digging out her car and, as miserable as it was, it finished in only ten minutes. He stuck the shovel in the snowbank and pulled her into his arms to say goodbye.

“Be safe,” he murmured against her ear. He wasn’t sure when the storm was supposed to let up and he wished he had tried harder to get her to stay, but she was stubborn as usual.

“You don’t need to worry, I’ll be home before you know it,” she told him, squeezing him tightly. Their lips met in a final kiss before her departure. A sudden warmth spread from the connection, the simple touch melting away the cold as they rubbed together. When they parted, he kissed the tip of her nose.

“I love you, Em.”

“I love you too, Cul,” she said, smiling up at him. He chuckled quietly at the nickname she had given him. At first, he didn’t like it, he was never one for having nicknames. But it grew on him and he found himself liking it more each time she said it. She slipped from his embrace, into her car, and was soon out of sight. He had plans for the day, of course, he was going to surprise her with a meal that they saw on one of the cooking competition shows they would watch, he only hoped he could pull it off. As he turned to go back inside, his snow-covered car caught his eye and he paused. The pit of his stomach sank and he could hear the heavy thrum of his heart in his ears. He hadn’t planned on using it today, but the uneasy feeling made him reconsider, so instead of going inside, he picked up the shovel back up.

* * *

The day went by quickly once Cullen had begun prepping and cooking the meal, cleaning their loft, and picking her favorite movie to watch that night. Their home smelled of salmon and rosemary and a faint hint of lavender from the candles he had lit. Now all he waited for was the gift he bought for tomorrow, a rare edition of _Persuasion_ , the book that happened to bring them together. The pictures showed a red leather bound book, dark floral patterns designed into the material, it seemed like it was in mint condition, at least he  _hoped_  it was for the price he paid. The sun had disappeared a couple of hours ago, the moonlight flooding in through the windows, and Emilie should be home any minute.

A knock at the door sounded and he sighed a heavy breath of relief when he opened and saw the mailman. They exchanged small talk as he signed for the package and he smiled once they finished, picturing the happiness on Emilie’s face once she would open her present. He cut the tape, peeling back the cardboard flaps to reveal the book just like in the pictures. His calloused hands ran over the binding, his fingers feeling every mark of the design, and before he had a chance to bring it into the bedroom, the timer for the food rang. With the book placed back carefully, he made his way to the stove, slipping on the oven mitts and pulled the food out with a delightful grin on his face.  _Hopefully, this tastes as good as it smells_ , he thought.

The ringtone of his phone began to play loudly, jumping him slightly.  _Probably Em_ , he thought, making his way to the island. Once he saw the screen, however, it was a number he didn’t recognize.

“Hello?” he answered. Loud chattering could be heard in the background of the call.

“Is this a Mr…Cullen Rutherford?” a woman asked.

“Yes, it is.” His heart began to beat faster as he waited for her to respond, his ears picking up on the sound of sirens and machines on the other end.

“This is Denerim City Hospital, your wife has been brought into the emergency room…” her voice faded until all he could hear was the loud beats of his heart, racing faster than he ever thought possible. Tears immediately welled in his eyes as he felt his world crumble beneath his feet.

“I…I’ll be there soon,” he muttered before ending the call. He dressed quickly, putting his shoes on the wrong foot at first and leaving the buttons of his coat undone. As he grabbed his keys and flicked the light off, he still saw the oven heat on and rushed to turn that off as well. He ran to his car, half-assing cleaning the snow and ice from it before peeling out of the driveway.

* * *

When he arrived at the emergency room, the waiting room was full of people and crying children and a small line that formed at the front desk. It was a miracle that he even made it here, the roads were slick with black ice that apparently the city didn’t expect, thus resulting in shoddy maintenance. His eyes hurt, his mind was a blur on everything except for Emilie. He replayed their morning. The soft kisses, her bright smiles, her voice as she said ‘I love you’ and finally her stubbornness on leaving for work. I _should’ve tried harder…I should’ve…my fault. This is my fault,_  he thought as he watched the last person in line move to the side.

“My wife…Emilie Rutherford…I got a call an-” he began to say until the nurse held up a finger for him to pause. She looked at a chart, then to her computer, then back to the chart and finally up to him.

“She’s in surgery at the moment so you’ll have to wait here until she’s stable,” she told him. He could see the sadness and the frustration in her eyes, he could only guess that he was one of the many here looking for someone they love.

“How long will that be?” he asked, his voice cracking as tears slid down his face. “What happened to her?”

“She was in a car accident, the police should be here soon with any personal items and will be able to give you full details. And as far as how long it could take…a few hours, at least.” His shoulders slumped, guessing that would be the only useful information he could get from her, and he turned from the desk, eyes scanning the room until he found a quiet space in the corner.

And so, he waited.

_And waited._

He would check his phone for the time, ask the nurse if there was an update, and when he wasn’t doing either of those, he stared at the ceiling, mindlessly counting the dots over and over again.  _One thousand eighty-seven, and one thousand eighty-eight…again_ , he thought. He considered calling their friends to let them know what happened but decided against it until he knew how she was. The police arrived around 10pm, bringing just her purse and keys. They told him how it happened. She was at a stop sign, her seatbelt unbuckled, and a truck lost control and slid right into her, causing her to go through the windshield. When they arrived, they found she was still breathing and that brought him the tiniest sliver of comfort. It wasn’t for almost another two hours that a doctor approached him.

“You must be Mr. Rutherford?” she asked. He nodded with a yawn. “Your wife is out of surgery and is in a comatose state.” She motioned him to follow her and once he stood, they began to walk into the back. “We’ll need to keep her like this for at least three weeks to allow her brain to heal from the trauma, then she’ll stay for observation to see how she’s doing. We expect her memory to be a bit hazy surrounding the accident should everything heal well…”

“So she’s going to be okay?” he asked. For now, it was all he cared about. All of his questions could be saved for later, but all he  _needs_  is to hear those words.

“She’ll be okay,” she replied, her lips smiling slightly. The weight fell from his shoulders and he finally felt like he breathe again.  _She’s alive_. When the doctor came to a stop in the hall, he looked into the room to his side and saw her lying in the hospital bed. Even though she was alive, he couldn’t help the tears that still fell from his eyes. It was a sight he didn’t think he would see, a sight he didn’t want to see. They should be laying in bed,  _their bed_ , together, limbs tangled in a comfortable puzzle and lazy smiles on their faces.

But, instead, they were here, surrounded by several other people who may or may not be in the same situation, the noises and smells that all hospitals had only reminding him further of what happened. He sat at her bedside, looking over her in shock. Her face was covered in cuts and bruises, her arm in a sling and a wrap around her abdomen. He let out a shaky breath, quiet cries breaking through, and looked down at her free hand and noticed the small rings on her finger. His hand covered hers lightly, thanking the Maker that he’s able to feel her again and leaned forward for his lips to place a gentle kiss to her fingers. The red light of the clock on the nightstand caught his eye.  _12:01am_.

“ _Happy Anniversary, Em_.”


	2. Chapter 2

Cullen nearly forgot where he was. His dreams were full of him and Emilie at home, in their own bed… _happy_. But when he felt the gentle shake at his shoulder, the beeping of the heart monitor, the sounds of bustling nurses and doctors, all brought him back to reality. He lifted his head, his neck stiff with pain, and his heart sunk when he saw Emilie lying still in the hospital bed. His eyes were sore and undoubtedly red from tears that were threatening to spill again and there was a sharp pounding at the back of his skull. He turned his gaze to the person standing next to him, a nurse dressed in bright pink scrubs and a tired expression on her face.

“Sir, we’re going to be moving her to the fourth floor in the west wing since she’s in a stable condition, she’ll be in room 423,” she told him. His hand wrung the back of his neck, trying to alleviate any pain, and he stared blankly at her. He could barely think of a reply, his mind so occupied of Emilie.

“We’ll be running a few tests once we have her settled. What I suggest is, perhaps, calling a friend to bring you home, get something to eat, change and what-not. I’ve seen how hard it is on loved ones if they don’t take a moment to care for themselves,” she told him. “But that’s just my suggestion,” she added with a soft smile.

“But I ca-”

“ _She’ll be okay_ ,” the nurse reassured.

He nodded slowly, realizing that she was right and before rising from his chair, he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Emilie’s hand, whispering ‘I love you’ against her skin. When he stood, his bones cracked and there was an aching pain in his hips and he groaned, stretching his arms above his head. Cullen gave his thanks to the nurses helping before he walked out of the room. He made a quick exit, the noises of machines and other patients crying becoming overwhelming and once he stepped out into the cool air, he inhaled deeply, his eyes closing. The cold struck the pain in his head, bringing a comforting numbness, but his breath exhaled shakily as he reached for his phone, slowly scrolling to Alistair’s name.

“‘Ello?” Alistair answered with his normal cheery voice.

“Hey,” he replied solemnly, unable to hide his feelings.

“What’s wrong?”

“Well, I’m at the hospit-”

“What happened?” he asked, his voice rising with panic. Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes squeezing shut as the sharp noise went straight to his headache.

“Emilie’s been in an accident and…look, I’ll explain it all to you if you could come pick me up? I can’t handle driving home right now,” he said, voice cracking as tears surfaced again.

“Of course, I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Alistair said quickly, followed by the call ending.

As he brought the phone down from his ear, his thumb hovering over the lock button, he saw the background picture of him and Emilie that they took on the docks of his favorite place. Tears began rolling down his cheeks as he gazed at the picture. A twinge of a smile came to his face as the memory of that day came back to his mind. For once, the sun was shining on the lake, not a single cloud in the sky. Rare for Ferelden. They decided to have a picnic that afternoon, simply packing some sandwiches, fruit, and wine. The drive included the windows rolled down, music blaring and Emilie singing along the whole way. He would occasionally sing with her, but he mostly enjoyed watching her from the corner of his eye, feeling privileged to witness such a performance. And  _Maker_ , she looked  _beautiful_  - as usual - but she wore his favorite dress, a navy blue sundress, the sleeves just barely covering her shoulders, and small white flowers patterned throughout. He could remember the sound of her laughter, the smell of her “date” perfume - lavender and jasmine - and the taste of the wine on her lips.

Tears blurred his vision as he lost himself in the memory, the more and more he focused on it the more he felt the heaviness on his shoulders and the cracking of the ground beneath his feet. The world that they had built together was threatening to crumble right in front of him and he knew that his breaths wouldn’t come easy until she woke up. He knew the doctor said that she would be fine, that it would be her short term memory that would be most at risk. But he was always the worrier, always the one expecting the worst. This time was no different.

What if she forgot him? Forgot their love? His lips moved in the familiar pattern, a prayer being spoken in hushed tones as he begged the Maker to show his mercy on him once again. Eyes turned towards the sky, seeking out his God and hoping for help. Once the last words of his prayer were murmured, his gaze changed back to his phone, his thumb brushing away the tears that fell onto the now black screen, and placed the phone back in his pocket.

He waited in front of the hospital, his mind racing and standing still all at the same time, and he watched for Alistair’s car. Judging by the time, he’d be driving from work which was only a twenty-minute drive or so. As the stasis continued, something he hadn’t felt in months crept up his throat. Burning.  _Longing_. His mouth suddenly felt dry as the blue liquid came floating back into his thoughts. It’s been nearly five years that he’s been sober, one of the most difficult things he’s ever had to do, but there were times where he would crave even just a  _single drop_  of the drug. He scratched at his neck, his foot tapping against the concrete as he tried to think of something other than the lyrium and the hospital, but his mind came up with nothing else. He searched his jacket pockets, remembering that he had a pack of cigarettes stashed for desperate times and a smile came to his face as he finally felt the box. The pack was full, though he had a feeling that it would become empty soon, and he eagerly plucked one out, brought it to his lips, and lit the end with the lighter he had stashed as well.

Taking a deep breath, the menthol  was like fresh air cleansing away the longing for lyrium. His eyes closed as he exhaled, the smoke dissipating into the cold, and he sighed.  _Smoking in front of a hospital….classy_ , he thought. A few drags later and he could see Alistair car pulling up to the front of the ER and he quickly discarded the rest of cigarette. Before he even started walking towards the car, Alistair jumped out of the driver’s side and rushed over to him, pulling him into a hug. He was always an affectionate friend, something he had to get used to in the beginning, but at this moment, he couldn’t be more grateful for it. The pair were unlikely friends at first glance, Alistair being more outgoing and silly while Cullen would have his reservations at first and took things a bit more seriously. Had it not been for being roommates back in college, he wouldn’t have considered talking to him. But he found that Alistair was his best, and sometimes  _only_ , friend throughout the years.

When they pulled away from each other, a sympathetic smile was on his friend’s face as he gestured to his car. “Come on, let’s get you home,” he said.

As soon as they got into the car, seats buckled and engine on, Cullen immediately began telling him everything that happened, sparing no detail. His cheeks were stained with tears, his chin trembled  as he tried to hold it back at first, and his breathing sporadic. Alistair stayed silent for the most part, knowing that he needed a listening ear and shoulder to cry on more than advice at the moment. Towards the end of his story, his voice cracked, words becoming inaudible and soon he gave up on trying to talk about it further.

“I’m…I’m so sorry that this happened,” Alistair said, pausing briefly. “But, she’s _alive_ …and she’s going to be okay.”

Cullen merely nodded as his face leaned into his palm, covering his sore eyes. The rest of the ride was silent besides the dull music that played in the car. He watched buildings and cars go by the window, seeing how much the storm left behind. Salt trucks were still on the road and traffic was a slow crawl. There were children on sidewalks, throwing snowballs and enjoying the snow, rather than despising it as he was. Within another twenty minutes, they arrived at their building, the lot now cleared of snow.

Once the engine was shut off, they exited the car, his feet moving sluggishly towards their door. His hands fumbled with his keys until the right one came between his fingers and he pushed the door open, his heart dropping again as yesterday morning played through his head.  _If only I had been more adamant about her staying_ , he thought as he threw his keys on the kitchen counter and discarding his outerwear.

He turned to Alistair, who was doing the same as he did, and sighed. “I never thanked you for coming…” he muttered, his hand running through his hair.

“You know that I’m always here for you, whatever you need,” he said, slipping out of his shoes. “Now go shower, change,  _eat something_  and once you’re ready to go back, I’ll be here.” Cullen watched him begin to clean the mess of last night’s uneaten dinner in the kitchen and guilt began to wash over him. But when he tried to lend a hand, Alistair firmly pointed towards the bathroom and pushed his hand away.

As he prepared his shower, turning the water to scalding and letting the steam fill the room, he could picture Emilie there with him. Her fingers sliding beneath his shirt, warm skin rubbing against each other, her smile as he tickled her slightly when he removed her clothes, her lips pressing softly against his shoulder blades as he stood in the stream of water, the melodic hum she would make as he washed her hair…just  _everything_  she has done in the past came bubbling to the surface. He barely registered the heat of the water as he stepped in, it splashing further and further up his body as he moved.

He leaned against the shower wall, his eyes squeezing shut as more tears threatened to fall. For the first time since meeting Emilie, he was truly afraid. Afraid of what could happen once she woke, afraid to lose her, afraid to go back to a life without her.

_She’ll be okay_ , he repeated to himself, over and over again. So many times that he began to lose count.

* * *

He doesn’t know how long he remained like that, just standing mindlessly in the shower, he doesn’t even know how long he was home. But now he was walking through white halls, nurses, doctors and patients passing him and Alistair by, and his worn copy of  _Persuasion_  clutched in his hand, the only thing he brought from home.

The days began to blend together, over the course of the three weeks there were only a few places you could find him. Most likely at Emilie’s bedside, the two chairs provided being situated as his own bed at night, then in the morning he would go home to shower and let the hot water relieve the ache in his back, and the least likely place to find him was the hospital cafeteria. It wasn’t just the food itself, but more so that his appetite had completely disappeared and he would be forced to eat either by the nurse, who told him to go home the first day, or by one of their friends that would visit, usually Alistair.

But he waited as patiently as he could, asking the doctor every day of how she was doing, when she would be brought out of the coma, what she would remember and not, to which he never got a direct answer.

Today, however, was day twenty-three that she was in the hospital and he’s been told that they’ve decided that she was ready. He didn’t think he could be more on edge, more nervous, more afraid than he had been since she got in the accident, yet his body was proving him wrong. His whole body tingled, his heart beating so hard that it could burst through his chest, and his mind racing with a million questions, a million possibilities. He watched as the drugs began to wear off, her body shifting in the bed, her eyebrows pinching together, her full lips drawn together so tightly as she began to feel the pain of the accident. His thumbs rubbed nervously along the bed frame, standing next to the nurse at the end, and he swallowed roughly as her eyes began to flutter

When her eyes peered open, he wanted to reach over to her, take her in his arms and thank the Maker. But he knew that he had to hold back, let her adjust. She groaned, her hand moving to touch the fading bruises on her forehead and wincing in pain. “What happened?” she asked groggily.

“Emilie,” the nurse started calmly, “you’re in the hospital, you were in a bad car accident three weeks ago.” The nurse paused for a moment, allowing Emilie to take in the news. Her eyes widened with shock as she became more and more awake, but her gaze completely avoiding him. His heart began to sink, even though hearing her voice for the first time had made the corners of his lips curl for a slight moment. “How’s your head feeling?”

“ _It hurts_ ,” she whimpered as she moved it along the pillows in an attempt to find a more comfortable position.

“That’s expected, I’ll get you something for that,” she said, smiling slightly as she turned away from the bed to the tray just a few feet away. Cullen watched as she tapped the bottle of pills, dropping two into a plastic cup.

“Doctor?” Emilie asked. When his attention turned back to her, he noticed her focus on him. His breath hitched, throat locked, hands gripping the bar of the bed. He looked into her eyes, the warm amber color that he fell in love with and he could only see confusion in them.

“I can get the doctor for you,” the nurse chimed in. He could feel her nervous stare on him. The background noise of the hospital drowned out until all he could hear was a ringing sound, deafening, and tears stung at his tired eyes.

Emilie’s expression grew even more confused, a panic rising visibly on her face. “You’re not my doctor?” she asked, her gaze pointed to him.

In that moment, he swore his heart had given out, his mind screaming that this wasn’t real, that it couldn’t possibly. He could hear the cracking of the world giving out beneath him, the vibrations of the crumbling shaking him to his core and he could see himself clinging to the ledge as he hung over a pit of the darkness that he had made it out of once before. But this time, it was darker,  _colder_ , and he felt that there may not be an escape once he fell into it.

He inhaled sharply before moving to the side of the bed, taking his chair once more and bring it closer to her. He could feel the tears streaming from his eyes as he shook his head, his bottom lip quivering as he struggled to find the words. “Em…I’m your husband,” he told her.

Her body became stiff as she looked over at him wildly and he could see tears brimming her eyes. He knew that all she could see was a stranger, a man she doesn’t know, and she was overwhelmed,  _scared_  of what surrounded her. And his worst nightmare, the one he’d been having for twenty-two nights, had become a reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated!! <3


	3. Chapter 3

He stormed the hall, tears running down his cheeks either in absolute heartbreak or anger, he wasn’t sure, but the tapping of the doctor’s footsteps behind him only picked at his nerves. Emilie looked at him like he was…a stranger. The emptiness in her eyes was unnerving, chilling him to the bone. For a moment, he was numb, thinking that this was a nightmare or that perhaps she was just delirious. But when she snatched her hand from his, her brows knitting together at the sight of the wedding band, that’s when his life truly shattered. The doctor was muttering words that seemed to blend together as he raced to find the exit, needing fresh air, needing to be alone.

“Some memory loss is expected bu-”

“ _Some memory loss_?” He asked her, turning on his heel to face the doctor, voice raised with anger. “She doesn’t remember who I am! _Her husband_!”

“Brain injuries are much harder to predict, they aren’t black and white like a broken bone,” she refuted. Cullen knew that the doctor was right but that still didn’t dampen the mixture of emotions bursting through him at the moment.

“But to forget an entire person? To forget years of your life?” he croaked, fists clenched at his sides. “You couldn’t possibly know what this is like.”

He turned away from her then, his mind unable to comprehend anything else. As he closed in on the front entrance, he slung his jacket on quickly, hands shoving deep into his pockets and clinging to the cigarettes and keys. The cold air blew against his face harshly and tiny flecks of snow swirled around him, as though the weather was beginning to correlate with the turmoil inside the building, and he only walked faster to his car. As he made his way towards the garage, he passed several people, all with alarmed and sad expressions on their faces. Some met his eyes and must have felt an odd sense of comfort in the fact that there was another person facing a hardship. But he could find no such thing. Once he reached the car, he sat in the driver’s seat, his head falling to the steering wheel.

Tears fell freely from his eyes, loud sobs escaping him as the wall he’s been holding together these past few weeks had finally crumbled. He wanted to hit himself or have someone else hit him, anything that would wake him from the nightmare he must be having. But the ache in his chest was too real, too painful. Emilie forgot him. Thousands of questions ran through his mind, but the most important is if she would ever _remember_ him. Being a complete stranger to the one person who he loved more than anything forever would be too much to bear. And if that was the case, what if he couldn’t get her to fall in love with him again?

* * *

Emilie laid in the hospital bed, head pounding and body aching, but her eyes were focused on one thing. A gold wedding band, coupled with a small diamond engagement ring, that sat on the nightstand. Not only did she not expect to wake up in a hospital, but she especially didn’t expect to wake up being married. The last man she remembered in her life was just James, a family friend who’d she had a crush on for months. But seeing the man that was at her bedside confused her and broke her heart though she had no feelings towards him. He loved her, clearly, and this… _accident_ had broken him.

She turned away from the rings, the unknown becoming overwhelming, and she closed her eyes. In the pitch black, she could envision the life she remembered, being back home at Ostwick, being accepted into the Pre-Med program at Ostwick College, her older sister graduating the Pre-Law at the University of Highever, and, more sadly, her mother becoming ill. But those were the last things she could remember. How long ago was that? she thought. The idea that she’s been living a life that she could no longer remember frightened her. She saw the nurse come back to the small table at the foot of her bed, with a cup of water and another with three white pills.

“Can you tell me the date?” she asked. The nurse brought the cups to the side of the bed, handing them over before answering her question.

“It’s the 26th of Guardian, year 20:14 Justinian,” the nurse replied.

_Nearly four years…lost_ , she thought. Her grip on the cups tightened, the plastic crinkling and water sliding over the rim. What else, besides marriage, happened during that time? How many memories was she missing? How many good or bad? What had happened with her family? A sharp aching pain in the back of her skull reminded her of the medicine in her hands and she quickly took them.

“Thank you,” she muttered, giving back the cups. “Has there been anyone else that’s come to visit me other than my…husband?”

“From what I’ve noticed, there’s been several young women and a couple of younger men, friends of yours, I suspect. Some have left flowers and a group even brought in cupcakes” the nurse said, “but your husband has hardly left your bedside, a loving man, he is.”

“ _Right_ ,” she said quietly. The small conversation quickly died into silence, Emilie becoming lost in her thoughts.

_Guilt_.

That’s what she felt as she thought of the man who had left the room in tears. Her husband who loved her deeply, who she was supposed to love back…but could no longer remember how to. Her head pounded sharply as if the thoughts became too overwhelming for her current state. She shifted slightly, a lame attempt to get comfortable and her eyes caught sight of the rings again and she frowned before turning back to the other side.

* * *

A few hours had passed since Emilie had woken up but it felt like so much longer to Cullen. For the first hour, he sat in his car, tears streaming down his face, fists hitting the steering wheel until they were numb. The next, he stared at his phone - scrolling through the seemingly endless photos of Emilie, re-reading text messages and nearly texting Alistair. He honestly wasn’t sure if he wanted company or not. Could he really handle the looks of pity at the moment? By the third hour, he was exhausted and succumbing to the cold air in his car. So he made his way back into the hospital, deciding to stay in the waiting area instead of going back to Emilie’s room and plopped himself on a less-than-comfortable couch. There were only two others in the area, both preoccupied with the rugby game highlights,

He stared blankly at the television, eyes sore and vision blurry, and the sportscaster’s voice sounded like a dull humming that was lulling him to sleep. His eyes fluttered close, unable to keep them open much longer until the world eventually turned black.

Cullen groaned as he felt a dull pain in his shoulder. Damned couch, he thought, shifting slightly into a different position. But then he felt it again and again - harder and more insistent this time. His eyes opened groggily and he nearly jumped when she saw Emilie standing over him. He pulled back his head - which had been uncomfortably hanging over the back - and turned to look at her.

“Are you supposed to be out of bed?” he asked. She shrugged.

“If I’m not, it’s too late now,” she replied.

“I suppose you’re right,” he chuckled, the first time in three weeks.

“Do…you want to come eat with me?”

“ _Yes_ ,” he said quickly, “I mean - yeah, I…I would like that.”

When he stood from the couch, he nearly faltered, just a few hours sleeping there had caused his back to ache unbelievably. He walked stiffly next to Emilie as they made their way to the cafeteria in silence. He wanted to say something - anything - but he had a feeling he would only make their situation worse. So instead, he waited. Waited for her to get her thoughts together, to ask any questions or talk about what she was experiencing. But the tension grew with each step until they finally reached their destination where food served more as a distraction than sustenance.

After walking aimlessly around the cafeteria, he ended up with two thin slices of pizza, a banana and a coffee - which he only realized after purchasing, that none of those would taste good together. Emilie had grabbed a fruit cup, a sandwich of some sort and a water - much more palatable.

“So,” she began as they chose a table to sit at, “you’re my _husband_.”

“ _I am_ ,” he said with a hint of pride in his voice. There was no doubt that he was proud to be her husband, that he had been lucky enough to marry her and the thought of that no longer existing terrified him.

“How long have we been together?”

“We dated just over a year before we were engaged and we didn’t marry until ten months later because you wanted a winter wedding an-”

“Really? That’s odd,” she interrupted.

“Well, at the time you were obsessed with this white coat you had found at a shop downtown and you said you wanted to get married in it,” he recounted, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly.

“And how long have we been married?”

“A year,” he replied, taking a sip of his coffee, “as of three weeks ago.”

Another bout of silence arrived and he could tell that she was thinking of all the right questions to ask. Her fingers worked at the foil wrap of the fruit cup and placed it on the tray gently before picking up her spoon to take a bite. Odd. Emilie isn’t known to be the most… _delicate_ eater, it’s not uncommon for her to leave crumbs or for her to toss things - such as that foil wrap - to the side haphazardly. After taking a few more bites, she looked up at him again.

“I looked at my chart before leaving the room, some of the nurses have taken note of who’s visited me, “ she said, “they have you down as Cullen S. Rutherford…what’s your middle name?”

“Stanton,” he told her and as soon as the word came from his mouth, there was a small giggle from her. His eyebrows rose and his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “What’s funny?”

“That’s just…a _very Ferelden_ name,” she mused. He laughed with her, nodding in agreement.

“Well, I come from a very Ferelden family.”

“Will you… _tell me_ a bit about them?”

His smile faded into an expression of surprise. He didn’t expect for her to ask about his family, though they would often see Rosalie since she lived in the city and Mia and Branson almost monthly, in fact, Emilie was quite good friends with his younger sister. But this was all before the accident. He held back a groan as he realized that Rosalie was the only one of his siblings that knew of the crash - though none of them knew about her memory. But he moved past that for now, knowing that he would deal with breaking the news to them later, and he began telling a bit about his past - Honnleath, his family, his desire to join the Templar Service to serve and protect Ferelden…and how that didn’t end up happening, though he didn’t divulge any details. Once he finished telling his stories, she said a few words before falling silent and beginning to pick at her sandwich.

“When I was looking at that list…I noticed that my family’s name wasn’t on there,” she murmured, “I thought that maybe the nurses just didn’t write them down, you must have seen them… _right_?”

He swallowed roughly as his heart sank. Emilie’s family was a topic that he’d hoped to avoid…at least for a little while longer. “No…I-I haven’t seen them,” he said.

“That doesn’t make sense…surely they know I’m here?” she asked, her brows furrowing as tears began to well in her eyes.

“You..um,” he sighed, taking a moment to think of the right words to say, “you haven’t spoken or seen them in years.”

Her breath hitched at his words. _Years?_ she thought. Tears welled in her eyes as she thought of not speaking to her family for so long. What could have caused such a thing? What had happened in their lives during that time? She recounted the things she could remember, trying to remember any detail that could have set something like that in motion….but she was coming up short.

“Do you know why?” she asked, hoping that he would know anything. She watched him as he was silent for a moment, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed his food.

“Um, well you’ve always told me that your parents were too demanding and controlling, that they made you go to Med School when they knew you wanted to go to Culin-”

“Wait,” she interrupted, catching up to the words he spoke quickly, “I’ve always _told_ you? Does that mean you’ve never _met_ them?”

More silence.

“No,” he sighed heavily, “you stopped talking to them before we met.”

Anger boiled inside of her. Not just at her supposed husband, but also at herself - or her past self that she’s forgotten. How could she marry this man who doesn’t know about her family? Doesn’t even know what they look like? Since she’s woken up here, her world has been turned upside down, the weight of reality and new information crushing and suffocating her.

“How can we be married when you don’t even know them?” she asked, her voice shaking as she tried to keep her temper.

“Em, _please_ ,” he began to say, his hand reaching to cover hers. She snatched and clutched it to her chest. Thousands of thoughts swam through her mind, making her light-headed and agitated.

“I can’t do this right now,” she mumbled, pushing her chair back from the table. “I just…I need to go back to my room.”

Emilie hurried away from her seat, hardly paying any attention to the groan that came from him as she left. She moved through the bland halls, tears falling freely as she dodged other people walking through. Once she finally reached the familiar wing, she watched the numbers on the walls, paying close attention to the names written and when she saw her name she was relieved to see that she was still the only patient in the room.

As soon as she sat on the mattress, the stress of the situation finally broke through as sobs shook her body. Her head fell into her hands, tears pooling into the crevices. She wondered what she ever did to deserve this pain - to forget what her life was like for the past four years - and the pain she was causing now - to Cullen, her family, and any friends she may have had. She curled up on the bed, pulling the thin blankets over her as she prepared to just attempt to sleep away the emotions that were eating at her. But when she turned to her side, her eyes fell on the phone on the side table.

She instantly reached for the phone, her fingers dialing the number that she could remember, praying that it was still active. Once she pressed the final digit, the ringing began and each ring made her heart race faster.

“Hello?” a man answered and a smile broke through the pain. Tension slipped from her shoulders as relief came from hearing the familiar voice.

“Dad?” she replied, her voice cracking. “It’s me, Emilie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this update has taken so long! I was in such a bad writer's block, but I'm finally through it! I appreciate every single reader! ♡♡♡

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and Comments are greatly appreciated! <3


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